This sudden turn of events caused by the portal clearly caught both Lucia and Edliman, who were completely in the dark, by surprise.
Meanwhile, Christine was awkwardly scrambling up from the ground. When he saw the slowly expanding portal and the towering figure stepping out of it, his expression became rather strained.
Heaven knew he had truly wanted to show off in front of his daughter and assert his fatherly dignity.
As it turned out... he had clearly overestimated his own strength, resulting in this embarrassing situation.
However, as a hybrid white dragon who was far more intelligent than the rest of his kind, Christine quickly consoled himself, muttering in his heart,
“That was just an accident... a complete and utter accident... Once I prepare myself properly this time, I'll definitely blow my precious daughter and foolish son away.”
Muttering to himself, Christine gripped the silver spear, which was as long as his body, with his dragon claws. He drove it into the fleshy ground to prop himself up.
However, before he could charge forward again, he suddenly sensed a powerful, hair-raising force gathering and expanding.
When he looked toward the source of this power...
His vision was instantly engulfed in an irrepressible, infinite light. Through the brilliance, he thought he faintly saw a... branch?
No, it was a spear—a spear forged from the power of faith.
...
Rewinding time slightly...
After Daviel charged out of the portal and rushed headlong toward the Mutant Matriarch, soldiers clad in power armor poured out of the expanding portal one after another, charging toward the approaching mutant monsters.
They did not hesitate for a single second, acting with cold, decisive precision.
These were the soldiers of the Black Dragon Empire, who had long since prepared themselves for a bloody battle.
Amidst the splattering of flesh and blood, a look of sheer horror appeared on the mutated old duke's face.
But that expression was quickly replaced by desperate resolve.
From his mutated, bloated mountain of flesh, tentacles erupted frantically, burrowing into the fleshy ground.
At the same time, hordes of mutant creatures changed direction, surging toward him, the host matriarch, in an attempt to fuse with him...
“Your Grace! We're here!”
After stepping out of the portal, Gar, Cezar, and Fido warily scanned their surroundings while immediately rushing to protect their shared queen.
Irene raised her head, her cold golden eyes flashing. “Buy me some time by holding this guy off,” she said flatly.
“Yes, Your Grace!”
The high-ranking officers of the Black Dragon Empire responded in unison. Without a moment's hesitation, they drew their weapons and turned to face the Mutant Matriarch. Even as Daviel battered it with a flurry of wild punches, the monster's body continued to swell, threatening to touch the very ceiling of the cavern.
“You two go as well.”
Irene turned her head slightly, her gaze sweeping over Arthas and Lucia.
The lich, who claimed to be the empire's eldest son, reacted instantly, charging forward with his sword raised.
As for the green dragon, who had already revealed her true form, she gave Irene a deep, lingering look before roaring and taking flight.
It's about time... Irene thought to herself, gazing at the utterly grotesque Mutant Matriarch, the ever-expanding monstrosity, and the chaotic battlefield.
From the moment she had entered this space until now, she had made no unnecessary movements.
In truth, however, she had been quietly channeling the power of faith within her body.
Silently preparing a long-forgotten technique.
Gradually, she entered a state of selflessness, as if she were no longer standing in a battlefield of flesh and blood.
Instead, she was back in that ancient domain from her previous life, the very place where the gods had been annihilated.
At a certain moment.
She reached out her fair, delicate hand.
A spear materialized in her grasp. Its main body was a branch radiating divine energy, embellished with advanced technology.
Hexagonal crystals were embedded along the shaft of the spear.
They glowed with a soft, misty light.
The spear's appearance closely resembled the divine weapon used to slay the gods of old.
Back then, the spear had been embedded with the divine sparks of all the human gods, serving as the physical manifestation of the laws they commanded.
Now, however, it was merely a knockoff, condensed at the cost of draining every last drop of her power of faith.
“There is only one chance.”
Gently caressing the shaft, Irene softly whispered its name: “Gungnir.”
In ancient human legends, this name represented the Spear of Eternity. Once thrown, it was guaranteed to strike its target, piercing through any enemy in its path.
Click.
Irene gripped the spear tightly, all traces of emotion vanishing from her eyes, replaced by an boundless, surging battle intent.
“It is time for this play to end.”
Irene repeated the words she had spoken earlier.
Then, she hurled the Spear of Eternity, the weapon destined to never miss.
...
What no one noticed was that in the most inconspicuous corner of the battlefield, a blue slime was watching all of this, its gaze fixed on the spear Irene had thrown.
Its round, bulbous body suddenly trembled.
Rate on N.U.
